


Share in Evening's Cool and Quiet

by Williamsaysgayrights



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Dancing, Fluff, Other, a little bit of hurt but its not too bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29513994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Williamsaysgayrights/pseuds/Williamsaysgayrights
Summary: Hildred runs into a woman she's never met before, and spends a night falling in love
Relationships: Gable/Hildred Gastaur, hildred gastaur/margaret
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	Share in Evening's Cool and Quiet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DrowningInStarlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrowningInStarlight/gifts).



> Happy birthday Jack!! You're amazing and i'm so excited to be able to give back to you for every fic of mine you've ever edited. I'm very glad to be your friend <3
> 
> Shoutout to Nico (onecrazyfangirl) for letting me shout at them about burza nyth lore and whether or not we were being suspicious with the questions we were asking hvnfdfhdlkfh
> 
> And also - shoutout to Ash (the-ipre) for the beta! This fic would be nothing without you 
> 
> Title from Sunlight by Hozier

Hildred knows she has the strongest bird in the joust as she surveys the competition with Victory. They’re both well aware that this is  _ theirs _ , that Aur Piora ends with them feared by their competitors and adored by their audience. It makes Hildred grin - in Aur Piora, anyone can win the other events. But in the joust? They’re the Broker’s  _ champion _ , the best he's ever had, and they know they were born to do this.

It’s as easy as they imagine flying could be. 

The competition begins, Hildred rising for a dive and aiming to take out the competitor from the Spring section as they soar. The heights she can reach up here are exhilarating, rising up as far as the arena will let her and giving her a full view of the arena, the audience gripped with anticipation as they watch. As Victory peaks, going to pull back into a dive, Hildred catches eyes with someone in the crowd. 

Time stops entirely as they watch each other. 

She’s  _ beautiful _ , wearing a green dress with curly dark hair framing her face, and if Hildred could see her up-close, they’d forget how to breathe. As it is, their hand grips Victory even tighter, a light blush on their face as this woman looks up at them. Her hair curls over her shoulders, almost black against the lights in the arena and pulled over the tattoo on her neck. They can’t make out what it is from here, but it doesn’t matter. What matters is that she’s watching  _ them.  _

Hildred realises she’s been staring for what feels like hours as Victory falls into a nosedive, breaking her eye contact with the woman and pulling her headfirst into the competition once again. 

_ If I win,  _ she thinks, striking her opponent and watching the pots below the featherweave burst in a shower of red sand,  _ I’m going to find out who she is.  _

——

They win, and the second they land she’s jumping off of Victory and praising them intently, laughing as they preen and rub their beak against her face. She spots the Broker out of the corner of her eye, turning to face him after another second of celebration with her closest companion. He’s beaming, dressed in the bird aesthetic that usually makes Hildred roll her eyes, but today she’s riding the high of a good joust. Seeing her employer won’t change that, even as he awkwardly shakes her hand.

“Congratulations Hildred! I knew you could do it – you’re my prized jouster, after all!” She holds back the urge to grit her teeth at that, anger flaring slightly.  _ I’m not anyone’s prize, sir,  _ she thinks, trying to find something she can latch onto in her memories to calm herself down before she talks. For some reason, her thoughts drift to the woman in the crowd and bring forth a blush that she can’t hide. The Broker notices, going to speak when he catches someone else’s eye. 

They wave at this mystery figure, extending a hand for Hildred to take. “Oh, I almost forgot, I have a very special guest for you to meet!” Their expression drops when Hildred doesn’t take their hand, instead turning to step away when they see…  _ her _ . 

Hildred was right earlier - she really does forget how to breathe. 

Up close, she’s even more beautiful, her smile adding a glow to her face that Hildred could drown in. As it is, she coughs to try and cover up her breathlessness, blushing as the woman laughs. “Hildred, right? I’m Margaret. Your joust technique is flawless - congratulations on your victory.” She says, and her voice is somehow even more beautiful than she is, soft and gentle in a way Hildred has never needed more than now. 

_ Oh fuck _ , she thinks, finally catching sight of the tattoo on her shoulder,  _ she’s attractive  _ and _ a Black Lily? I’m going to die.  _ Although Burza Nyth is a place for people to come to escape from their lives, Black Lilies are still rare. Occasionally, some will pass through during Aur Piora to meet the champion, but they never stay long. 

Of all the ones Hildred has met, Margaret is the first she wishes would stay forever. 

She’s tall, too, and a part of Hildred marvels as they realise she could  _ definitely  _ pick them up. They blush even harder at that, suddenly aware that they’ve been standing here in silence for at least a minute. They stammer out a thank you as Margaret laughs, too distracted to focus entirely on the way it makes them feel lightheaded. 

“Dear, you look nervous. Has the joust shaken you? Or maybe something, or some _ one, _ else?” The smile on her face is so  _ very _ smug, well aware of how she’s affecting her. Margaret knows how attractive she is, using it to her advantage to make Hildred weak at the knees with more than just leftover adrenaline. 

They spend a moment looking into each other’s eyes, Hildred furiously blushing until Margaret has apparently had her fill of teasing, turning back to the Broker with a sweet, genuine smile that shows none of the smugness present a second ago. “Thank you for introducing us, Mr. Broker.” He grins, and she turns to face Hildred once again. “I look forward to seeing you again soon, Hildred.” 

She steps away, dress twirling as she turns and walks confidently towards the arena exit. As Hildred watches her go, a small smile creeps onto her face as she considers the possibilities of their next meeting. 

She finds she can’t wait. 

——

She doesn’t have to wait long. She’s walking home, hands in her pockets to avoid the late-night chill of Burza Nyth and the darkness lit up by featherweave lamps. A shortcut takes her down an alley that leads to a bridge high above the city, letting her look down on all of the lights and sprawling buildings. It makes her feel like she’s in the sky, soaring above Speir and never coming down. 

She loves her job, the joust a part of her she can’t ever shake, but the thought of flying without a bird makes her ache deep down in her soul. 

Usually the bridge is empty this late at night, and Hildred will take a moment to stare off into the city and wonder what it would be like to fly, to leap off the bridge and  _ soar _ . Tonight, though, she isn’t looking at the city, something more beautiful to look at catching her eye instead.

Margaret leans against the brick wall of the bridge, gazing off into Burza Nyth with a smile on her face. The Morning Star stands out above her as if she’s its focal point, all its radiance and beauty condensed into a single person that steals the breath from Hildred’s lungs. 

They can’t stop their gasp, catching Margaret grinning to herself as she turns, dress flowing as she locks eyes with Hildred. “I was told I might find you here, so I waited. I wanted to celebrate your victory with you.” 

And Hildred just wanted to go home, but Margaret’s face is lit up by featherweave and lights from the city behind her, and Hildred has never been good at saying no. She holds out a hand, blushing as Margaret takes it. It’s so  _ small _ , dainty and careful in Hildred’s own calloused, thoroughly worked one, and they hold it like it’s a fragile part of the universe that could disappear at any moment. 

But Margaret sweeps her into a dance, beginning a slow waltz as she takes Hildred’s other hand and places it on her shoulder. Hers slips down to their waist as Hildred presses down against the area just below her tattoo, and the smile they receive could kill the Sovereign twice over. “Follow my lead,” Margaret whispers into the stillness of the night. “It’s just you and me.”

They dance for what feels like hours, some sort of magic weaving around them as Hildred is pulled into more and more complicated dances, laughing and apologising for standing on Margaret’s feet every time she tries to teach them something new. And Margaret laughs too, lit up in the featherweave and making her eyes shine. 

A string, so faint it might as well be invisible, weaves between them as Margaret removes her hand from their waist, gently taking the one resting on her shoulder to pull Hildred in close. 

“You’re a very good jouster, and an even better dancer. I’m  _ very _ impressed.” Margaret says, with a wink that doesn’t entirely suit her. Hildred thinks it would belong better on a woman who didn’t make her feel like she was drowning on dry land, but can’t quite finish the thought before it’s dragged away. So instead of thinking about it, she pulls a hand away from Margaret’s hold, cupping her cheek and stroking it with a thumb. 

“A compliment from a Black Lily? What a gift. I wonder, how would my skill at kissing compare?” Hildred asks, if only to take a risk, test the waters. They’re back in that freefall from the joust earlier, except this time it’s not them and Victory. There’s just Margaret, and the bridge, and the city lit up behind them. They almost prefer it this way. 

“Hmm… I suppose I  _ could _ help you test that, but I  _ do _ have a question - and don’t worry, this one’s easy.” Margaret‘s voice is kind, but Hildred feels uneasiness grow inside of them as she continues. “Why do you joust? What part of it makes you want to risk your life like that? It’s not  _ dangerous _ , I suppose, but surely the rest of it is, especially the race. Why risk it all for the joust?”

Hildred goes to pull her hand away from Margaret’s face, but she grabs it and holds it to her cheek with a soft sadness in her eyes. It isn’t something Hildred is used to, being looked at with kindness instead of hunger or rage. But here, with Margaret, it doesn’t matter that they aren’t ready to talk about their past yet - she’ll give them all the time they need. 

“I… I don’t want to talk about the specifics too much. But… have you ever wanted  _ wings? _ Have you ever wanted to just  _ fly _ as high as you can, no buffer, no arena ceiling, just  _ you _ and the  _ sky _ hundreds of miles up in the air, away from everything that’s ever hurt you? And then plummet down, a freefall you’re in control of, every second more thrilling than the last. That’s why I do it. Because up there, on Victory, I’m more than just a champion. I’m  _ free. _ ”

She didn’t mean to talk so much, beginning to stammer out an apology as Margaret slowly begins to smile again. “I didn’t expect you to want to fly, although thinking about it I should have. You  _ do _ seem the type to long for freedom,” she laughs, and  _ fuck _ , it’s something Hildred wishes they could bottle up and carry around with them for the rest of time. “I can’t help you with that, I’m afraid, but I can help fulfill another wish you had.” 

With that, she leans in, stopping the smallest possible amount away from Hildred’s face. “Is this alright?” She begins to ask, but they’ve already leaned in, willing to risk everything to stay in this moment forever. 

Kissing Margaret feels like  _ flying _ , soaring without wings over a wide, open river, and they can’t stop the grin that breaks free when Margaret pulls back. Their hands tangle in her hair, pulling her back in as they realise they don’t want this to end. 

It’s the same high she feels after riding Victory, still floating as the kiss ends. The leave the bridge, walking hand in hand to Hildred’s home and laughing the entire way. 

She never wants this night to end. 

——

Margaret is gone the next day, only visiting for the ending of Aur Piora. She’d kissed them goodbye that morning and promised this wouldn’t be the last time they’d meet, wrapping her pinky around Hildred’s. They’d felt silly doing it, but somehow they knew she was right - Margaret isn’t the first person Hildred has ever kissed and lost, but the promise makes her feel like it’s true this time. 

They understand why she has to go, heading off to a new town for a reason she hadn’t explained. Hildred just hopes she isn’t gone long, already begging for her to come back as the door to her house gently closes. 

They aren’t the first, and they won’t be the last of Margaret’s many loves. 

——

It’s a new Aur Piora, and Hildred isn’t working for the Broker anymore. His new team is from out of town, all huddled together and rapidly talking about something she can’t discern from her position in the arena. The team makes an interesting sight - a teenager, a man lounging on a seat with an illimat deck, and Gable. Hildred heard that there was another travelling with them, but judging by the upset looks on their faces and the rage in Gable’s eyes as they look over to Tiberius, something must have happened.

Her eyes flit towards Gable, who’s towering over the others in their group. She allows herself a moment to stare at them without guilt, watching their handsome face as they talk with their companions. They grin at one point, and Hildred considers throwing herself across the arena and kissing them senseless. 

As if they’ve sensed eyes on them, Gable turns, locking eyes with her across the arena as Hildred blushes a furious red. It would be mortifying if the same blush hadn’t also spread across Gable’s face, and she can’t help but laugh slightly. The man lounging beside Gable sees them blush and frowns, as if it’s  _ new _ to him, and Hildred feels lighter at being the one to make them do it. 

Within the next three hours, their entire view of Gable shifts twice. Once in awe as they destroy Tiberius in a picture of divine fury and fire, and once again as they touch the angel feather, suddenly painfully aware of the fear a mortal can feel. 

They don’t know why they didn’t expect it. 

They struggle back into their clothes as they try to avoid eye contact with Gable, too aware of the things they’ve done to even consider consoling them. They leave them alone on the floor of the locker room crying and afraid, wishing desperately that there was someone she could turn to about this. 

For the first time in a long time, she finds herself missing Margaret’s touch. 

——

The bridge doesn’t comfort Hildred for a while after that, Gable’s secret making her long for Margaret’s smile in a way that makes it painful to see where they'd once danced. But tonight, heading home after a late training session with Victory, she finally feels like it’s right. 

They look up as they step onto the bridge, and Hildred’s heart stops as she considers the possibility that someone can become a hallucination if you miss their touch enough. 

She’s in the exact same position as before, once again looking out over Burza Nyth, and Hildred can’t stop the gasp that slips out. It’s a perfectly unintentional mockery of the night they met, even down to the smile resting on Margaret’s face. 

As she turns to look at them, they realise just how much they’ve been  _ wanting _ . 

“Hello, Hildred,” she begins, laughing softly, and they feel lightheaded with it. “I was hoping I’d find you here.” 

Their legs move before they can feel them shaking, a hand rising to flutter over the tattoo of a lily on her shoulder as they breathe in for what feels like the first time in years. It’s the first one since Margaret left that doesn’t make them feel like they’re drowning, suddenly feeling like they could leap from the bridge and fly over Burza Nyth on Margaret’s touch alone. 

And as Margaret pulls them into another dance, the threads from before return, almost invisible but glinting in the light as they twirl together, Margaret’s dress flowing like she’s underwater. Hildred pulls her further in, wrapping their arms around her gently. 

The night continues, the bridge their only audience as they waltz away the hours, and as they come to a stop, Margaret leans in once again. Hildred rises to kiss her, feeling a smile against their lips that makes their heart  _ soar _ , grounded only by the arms Margaret holds them with. 

And, in all honesty, there’s no better way to fly. 


End file.
